Rob Roy Page #3

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And I know cattle.

I can drive them faster|and deliver them fatter

than any man in the kingdom.

Why would the Marquis of Montrose|lend a McGregor 1,000?

For profit, what else?

It's an investment as much as a loan.

So it's business partners you are now,|you and the Marquis.

Keep that tongue for your boys, woman.

I didn't tell you my mind|to be flayed for it.

You know I love the bones of you,|Robert McGregor.

But you take too much to heart|that cannot be helped.

It must be helped.

All right,

but not today.

I got yous.

I got the two of yous!

Got the two of yous!

Move on.

Father,

will McGregors ever be kings again?

All men with honour are kings,

but not all kings have honour.

What is honour?

Honour is

what no man can give you

and none can take away.

Honour is a man's gift to himself.

Do women have it?

Women are the heart of honour,

and we cherish|and protect it in them.

You must never mistreat|a woman or malign a man,

nor stand by and see another do so.

How do you know if you have it?

Never worry on the getting of it.

It grows in you and speaks to you.

All you need do is listen.

All right, lads,|enough of the finer things.

You've animals to tend to|and water to haul.

Your mother and me|will be down directly.

Take the basket.

Come on!|I'll race you down the hill.

Do you know how fine|you are to me, Mary McGregor?

So fine.

Is that why you sent them away?

To tell me how fine I am?

Or did you want to make a silk purse

out of my sow's ear again?

Tsk, tsk, tsk.

What a wanton I'm wed to.

You know what the old wives say

about these standing stones?

No. What do the old wives say... old wife?

Ow!

Ow. Come here.

What do they say?

So, what do they say?

They say the stones make men hard

and women fertile.

We've no need of them, you and me.

You know how fine you are to me,|Robert McGregor?

This tailor in Glasgow|to whom you owe 87

extended this credit|because you were my guest?

Or as you prefer to frame it,

a member of my household.

I can assure Your Lordship

I have in no manner indebted him.

And now Killearn tells me

that you are saddling|one of my serving wenches.

Damn it, sir! Your mother|did not send you to me

to debauch innocent girls.

I regret that I have|so offended Your Lordship.

By your leave, I will remove myself.

And to where,

might I ask?

You are penniless. You have no mount.

You know no-one.

To where would you remove yourself?

Have you some notion

of presenting yourself|at the Duke of Argyll's door

and soliciting his patronage|as his new champion?

I am Your Lordship's to command.

Remember your place, sir!

That's all I ask of any man.

What is next?

McGregor, My Lord.

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